Lioness Rising
by lilacmermaid33
Summary: Minerva McGonagall, on the night of the Battle of Hogwarts.  Film version
1. Lioness Dormant

A cold, damp wind snaked its way through the cracks in the castle's stone walls. Spring was often late in coming to Hogwarts, but this May was an uncommonly cold one; the lapping waters of the Black Lake were still frozen in crackling ice, and the grounds, as far as Hogsmeade and beyond, were covered in a light dusting of snow.

The Hogwarts House-Elves had kindly lit a fire in Minerva McGonagall's office before she returned from dinner, but already its warmth was waning. With a tired sigh, she Summoned some more firewood, letting the logs drop into the flames, and pulled her tartan shawl more snugly around her shoulders.

The lingering unseasonable chill was due, in part, to the growing Dementor population, now flourishing all over wizarding Britain. No longer confined to Azkaban, the miserable creatures had taken up residence in the lower levels of the Ministry of Magic, along Diagon and Knockurn Alley, even in Godric's Hollow. Minerva peered out her window, and saw dozens of them hovering around the Quidditch pitch. That was only a small fraction of the hundreds she knew were patrolling the perimeter of the Hogwarts grounds. As yet, Headmaster Snape had not seen fit to allow them into the school itself.

Minerva shivered, and cast her Patronus, a glowing silver cat springing from her wand. It paced back and forth on her desk before finally curling up in a ball beside her wireless.

Her mind clearer now, Minerva picked up a quill and turned her attention back to the stack of essays before her. In no time at all, she was pursing her lips. _What I wouldn't give to have Hermione Granger back in my classroom_, she thought wistfully. _Or, Merlin help me, that mad Lovegood girl. _Any_ student who would have learned even _one_ thing I taught them this year_.

Minerva sighed again; it wasn't the students' fault. Hogwarts had changed so much in the last year, and not for the better. Students now marched wherever they went with silent, military precision, fearful of being cornered alone. The corridors echoed, no longer with laughter and gossip, but with tortured screams. Those few courageous acts of rebellion, which had filled her with equal parts pride and dread, even these had been firmly and determinedly quashed. And, day by day, students continued to disappear. With so much terror running rampant through the school, it was a wonder the students had retained their sanity, never mind the finer points of their lessons.

"Nothing is the same without you, my friend," she murmured, gazing at the photograph on her desk.

An auburn-haired Albus Dumbledore, beaming with pride, smiled back at her out of the golden frame. A much younger Minerva was standing at his side, his arm about her waist. She had worn her coal-black hair down in those days, and it tumbled over her shoulders in thick waves as she leaned heavily against him. She was flushed and exhausted, but deliriously happy.

Minerva remembered that day as though it were yesterday. After months of study under her mentor's patient and watchful eye, Minerva had finally completed her Animagus transformation for the first time. Albus had cautioned her not to remain in her new form for too long at first, and after using what little strength she had remaining to transform back, Minerva would have liked nothing better than to crawl into her bed and sleep for a month. As usual, however, Albus had had other ideas. He had insisted on preserving the moment for posterity, enlisting one of his colleagues to take the photograph.

Recently, Minerva had been reflecting more and more frequently on her time as Dumbledore's apprentice. Studying at Dumbledore's side, it had been among the happiest periods in her life, but it was also tinged with darkness. She had watched helplessly as Gellert Grindelwald's steady rise to power took its toll on Albus. On a cold night, just like this, things had finally come to a head.

"_Is it truly as bad on the Continent as they say?" Minerva asked. She curled her legs up beneath her on the sofa, and took a long sip of steaming Butterbeer as she watched her mentor gaze somberly into the fire._

"_I'm afraid it is, Minerva," he replied. He sounded, for the first time, like a very, very old man._

"_So when are you leaving?" she asked quietly._

_Dumbledore gave a small chuckle, finally dragging his eyes away from the hearth. "You know me far too well, my dear," he said. He managed a smile, but his eyes were without their customary twinkle._

"_I don't pretend to know exactly what you're planning," Minerva said, "but it's been obvious for weeks that you've not been yourself."_

_He gazed back at the fire for some time before replying. "The last day of term is the day after next. I intend to leave that evening."_

"_So soon?"_

"_I fear it can be delayed no longer."_

"_Then let me come with you."_

"_I cannot."_

"_But, Albus—"_

"_I said no, Minerva." This in that hard tone of his that he used so rarely, but which brooked absolutely no argument. His voice softened, but the firmness remained. "I know you mean well, but this is something I must do on my own."_

"_But what if something happens to you?" she ventured. She would deny until her dying day that her voice had trembled in that moment._

"_That is a risk that I must take," he replied quietly. "I know it is difficult to understand now, but I _must_ be the one to stop him. Perhaps I can explain it to you one day, but I will not have you getting mixed up in this, Minerva. This is not your war."_

The discussion had ended there, though Minerva was far from satisfied. Dumbledore would go on to defeat Grindelwald in combat, and returned to the school in time for the new term as if nothing had happened. Not once, throughout the rest of her apprenticeship, or in all her time as a Hogwarts teacher, would Dumbledore speak to her of Grindelwald again.

_Well, it is my war this time, Albus_, she thought wistfully. _And you're not here to protect us from what's coming._

Minerva's reverie was broken by a sudden crackling sound. It was a moment before she realized that it was static from the wireless, which had lain discouragingly silent for weeks. Fingers trembling, Minerva reached for the dial, turning it so the quiet room was suddenly filled with sound.

"…do you read, we have a new weather report. Lightning has struck. I repeat, lightning has struck."

Minerva sank back into her seat, her heart pounding fast.

**Author's Note**: Thanks so much for reading! I'm always happy to receive comments and constructive criticism.


	2. Lioness Awakened

**Author's Note**: Thank you so much for reading, and for the reviews. I don't use a beta, and I struggled with parts of this chapter, so any comments and constructive criticisms are much appreciated!

Minerva's Patronus dissolved before her, frosty air flooding into its wake, but she did not so much as blink. Her heart raced, every cell in her body coming awake at once. It had begun.

She was on her feet in a heartbeat, pacing urgently before the fireplace. _That was Nigel Wespurt on the wireless_, she realized incredulously. And his thinly-veiled message could not have been clearer – he had seen Harry Potter. But where? Nigel had vanished from the school a fortnight earlier, along with the other remaining Gryffindor boys from his year.

Dumbledore had set the Golden Trio on some kind of quest before his untimely death, Minerva knew, but nothing more. They could be anywhere – and, indeed, if rumour was to be believed, they had been spotted all over the countryside in recent months, from Wiltshire to Devon to Godric's Hollow to the very heart of the Ministry of Magic itself. In spite of herself, Minerva's lip twitched into a smirk –the Carrows had terrorized Hogwarts this year, but they had also been far more forthcoming than the Headmaster in letting slip the Death Eaters' secrets. _Not that it did any good_, she half-growled. Any information she had was as good as useless, because Minerva was cut off from the Order of the Phoenix, more alone at Hogwarts than she had ever been before.

Known to all as Dumbledore's second in command, Minerva was already under far more scrutiny than any other member of the staff; she could ill afford giving further cause for suspicion. With the Floo network stringently monitored, and every censored word carried by every owl in and out of the castle called into question, it simply wasn't worth her position to be caught contacting any member of the Order.

The first months had been the worst, feeling things begin to happen around her, but being powerless to do a thing. It had been agony to hold her tongue, but Minerva was nothing if not resolute. The Carrows saw only willful acts of disruption and rebellion, and they descended upon them with a fiendish cruelty. But Minerva saw beyond the defiant words. She saw how Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil adopted a new soberness, vigilantly tracking every wave of her wand as she stood before them in class. How even the most bookish of Ravenclaws began to fill out beneath their robes, learning to make their arms and legs just as formidable as their minds. She could _feel_ the surge in power when the Hufflepuffs entered her classroom now, though they worked to conceal just how much their magic had improved.

But it was Neville in whom Minerva noticed the greatest difference. Neville, who had grown lean and hard in recent months, who no longer shrank from meeting anyone's gaze. She hoped he knew how proud of him his grandmother would be – how very proud of him _she_ was.

Yes, the changes to the student body were palpable. Other than hoping that Harry, wherever he was, knew what he was doing, Minerva's most frequent and most fervent prayer this year was that Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix had been able to establish contact. Neither force would be of any use to the other if they had no means of calling on each other when the time came.

The only Order member in the castle, after Hagrid was forced into hiding, Minerva had grown even more fiercely protective of her students. She would have sheltered all of them if she could, but it was Dumbledore's Army who most often filled her thoughts. The DA was her last link at Hogwarts to her mentor and the Order, and she worried herself sick over them when they were beyond her protective gaze. But they, too, were disappearing. First in ones and twos, leaving gaps in their tables at the Great Hall; later, whole dormitories emptied overnight. Now nearly all of the DA was gone from the school, and Minerva was left with only the small comfort of Potterwatch.

The resistance Potterwatch broadcasts had become Minerva's lifeline throughout this long year, though they came too briefly and sporadically. It was the voices she listened for, and the names. The lists, when they came, told her that her closest friends and allies outside the castle walls were still alive. Merely hearing their voices, her former students, colleagues and friends, gave her hope that all was not yet lost.

Minerva halted abruptly before the fire, gripping the mantelpiece tightly and staring into the flames as if they might provide her with an answer. _Nigel was on Potterwatch this evening_, she rationalized, _so it only stands to reason that at he is in contact with the Order_. Perhaps all of Dumbledore's Army who had left the school were in a safe house, somewhere nearby, just waiting for a sign that the final battle had begun?

Minerva's fingers inched towards the Floo powder by the mantelpiece, but she reined them in with great effort. One way or the other, she was certain, things would end tonight, and it was overwhelmingly tempting to call the Order to Hogwarts. But what if she was wrong? If this was a false alarm, and she played her hand… Besides, if she had heard Nigel's message, then they certainly had. What, then? _I can't just sit here and do nothing!_

Minerva breathed deeply, and tried to slow her racing thoughts. _It's got to happen at Hogwarts_, she concluded. With all that she knew of Tom Riddle, there was nothing else that made sense. But Voldemort and his followers might still be unaware that Potter had been sighted. _If I can find the Carrows, I may be able to immobilize them before anyone's the wiser_. That would leave two fewer Death Eaters to have to deal with later. Perhaps, if she was lucky, she could even catch Snape off his guard. Hot blood coursed through her veins, her body primed and desperate for action.

She had already drawn her wand and was reaching out for the doorknob before the mirror on the opposite wall showed her the absurdity of her actions. She recoiled, blindly reaching for the back of her chair, her body sagging against it. She didn't know whether to laugh, to scream, or to cry.

_You fool_, she berated herself bitterly. _What were you thinking? You can't just run headlong into this without a plan. There is far too much at stake._ She glanced back at the photograph on her desk, but she didn't need to hear Dumbledore's voice to know what he would be saying to her right now. She had heard it all before.

_Minerva scowled up at her Head of House, scuffing her shoes on the stone floor._

"_Please take a seat, Miss McGonagall," he said, twinkling at her in that infuriatingly calm way of his. She did so, stiffly, and he gestured to the glass dish on the desk before him. "Lemon drop?"_

"_No, thank you," she replied, her dark eyes gleaming with as much disdain as her twelve-year-old self could muster. Dumbledore seemed not to notice her tone, however, for he merely helped himself to a sweet before turning his attention back to her._

"_Miss McGonagall, do you understand why Mr. Pringle has brought you to me?" he asked._

"_He caught me trying to leave the castle after dark," she replied sullenly._

"_And what reason did you have for leaving the castle at that time, when you knew that it was against the rules?" he probed._

"_The sixth-years dared Augusta to spend the night in the Forbidden Forest," she said. "When I found out, I had to go after her."_

"_Admirable though your intentions were," Dumbledore said seriously, "that was a very foolish thing you did. The forest is forbidden for a reason, Miss McGonagall. It is dangerous."_

"_I'm not scared," Minerva said scornfully. "I'm in Gryffindor, I'm brave."_

"_You still have a great deal to learn, Miss McGonagall, if you believe that courage is measured by the absence of fear." _

_Minerva gaped back at him, too surprised even to form a response to the conversation's unexpected turn._

"_Oh, you are not the first Gryffindor to think this way, and I am certain you will not be the last." He tented his fingers before him before continuing. "Courage, true courage, is shown when we are confronted with fear, but we rise to the challenge, _in spite_ of it." Minerva opened her mouth to speak, but Dumbledore continued as if he had not noticed. "Running headlong into dangerous situations, however, is merely reckless and foolish."_

"_I had to go after her!" Minerva burst out, flushing indignantly. "She could have been killed!"_

"Someone_ had to go after her," Dumbledore corrected gently, "but it needn't have been you. It would have taken no time at all to alert myself, or one of your other professors."_

"_She could already have been in danger," Minerva insisted stubbornly._

"_She could indeed," Dumbledore agreed. "And what would you have been able to do, in that case? Talented though you are, do you truly suppose that you would have been able to provide whatever assistance Miss McKinnon required?"_

_Minerva flushed, and bit her lip, torn between Dumbledore's praise and his rebuke._

"_When we have courage," Dumbledore went on, "we must be especially careful to use it wisely. You must _always_ think before you act. Is this the moment for planning and strategy? Should you wait, gathering more information? Or is action truly the only option?"_

_Minerva nodded slowly, so absorbed in his words that she forgot to be angry. _

_Dumbledore gazed seriously at her. "You have the potential to be one of the greatest witches of your generation, Miss McGonagall," he said. "But that potential will mean little if you do not learn this lesson."_

Minerva groaned, feeling like a scolded schoolgirl once more. Much as she wished it, this was most certainly not the time for action. Not yet. For goodness sake, she didn't even know where Potter or Dumbledore's Army or any of the Order were. No, her position at Hogwarts was far too valuable to lose; she couldn't just go charging out of here without far more information.

Minerva had no sooner lowered herself back into her chair, her thoughts still racing, when an all-too familiar voice came over the loudspeakers.

"All students and staff are to proceed to the Great Hall … _Immediately_."


	3. Lioness Alight

The Headmaster's silky voice always felt like a shock of icy water down her spine these days, and tonight was no different. But in a strange way, hearing this announcement also helped Minerva to clear her mind of its racing thoughts. She rose from her chair and removed her shawl, standing a little straighter. She let out a breath she hadn't even known she was holding. The next move had been made.

Minerva slipped her hand into the pocket of her robes, and kept a firm grip on the handle of her wand. Running in there with her wand held high had never been an option; she would bide her time, keeping a vigilant eye, and when it was time to act, she would be ready.

Minerva warded her office, and then swiftly made her way down the corridor. Her heart leapt into her throat when she heard footsteps approaching from the other direction, but a moment later, she saw that it was only Madam Pomfrey. They reached the staircase at the same time, and exchanged a grim and curious look, but spoke no words. Idle chatter no longer had a place within Hogwarts' walls.

The Great Hall was still mostly empty when Minerva pushed open the oak door. All of the tables had been Banished from their places, leaving the Hall looking as bare and as desolate as the entire school had felt all this year. The Enchanted Ceiling was inky black, but cloudless, and flooded with shining stars.

The Headmaster stood at the front of the Hall, where the Staff Table should have been, and he was flanked by the abominable Carrows. Minerva did not acknowledge him; after the events of last spring, she had been unable and unwilling to look Severus Snape in the eye. She merely took her place along the wall, watching and waiting for her cubs to make their way down from Gryffindor tower. She caught the eyes of Professor Sprout, on the other side of the Hall, and they exchanged a solemn nod.

_Where are the Order_? Minerva wondered. _They must have assembled by now_. Were they on their way, this very moment?

It had been like this during the First War, this sense of anticipation and uncertainty. True, Voldemort had been unable to seize control of the Ministry or of Hogwarts then. But it felt the same to Minerva, this sense that somewhere out there, her fellow wizards and witches were spying, fighting, even dying, and here she was, assigning homework and handing out house points, wondering which of her students would be Voldemort's next victims, and which had already taken his Mark.

In the months leading up to that October night in Godric's Hollow, Dumbledore was conducting almost daily meetings with members of the Order, meetings to which she was not invited, as she now had to shoulder the load of even more of Dumbledore's administrative duties. Once a week, he would call her to his office, and, over tea and a game of chess, fill her in on the most significant developments. As she waited now, a discussion from one such evening came back to her.

_Minerva gazed down at the chessboard, at last directing her knight to a nearby square. She popped the last bite of a Ginger Newt into her mouth, and reached absently for another._

"_You are restless this evening, Minerva," Albus noted. "What is it?"_

_Minerva sighed deeply. "I just feel so useless here," she said. "I feel like I should be doing something to help. Isn't there any job you could have me do for the Order?"_

"_Such as?"_

"_I don't know!" she snapped crossly. "You know far better than I what is needed. But something! Anything would be better than just sitting here, waiting for things to happen!"_

_Dumbledore didn't say anything at first. At last, he folded his hands in his lap, and replied, "You are already doing everything I have ever required of you."_

"_Yes, but—"_

"_Some day, Minerva," he interrupted firmly, "you will undoubtedly be called upon to fight, but do not expect that call to be from me."_

"_I – what?" she faltered._

"_When the time comes, Minerva, you will know exactly what to do. You won't need me or anyone else to tell you. You'll just know, and you'll do it. Until that moment, I need you to trust me when I say that being a teacher and my deputy is the most important thing you could be doing."_

A flash of something bright in the corner of her vision jerked Minerva abruptly back to the present. She blinked, and looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of it again. It was not difficult: even amongst the hundreds of students now marching in rank and file into the Hall, Luna Lovegood's hair shone out like a beacon. It gleamed in the light of the many torches lining the walls, until Luna nonchalantly pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head.

This development set Minerva's heart to racing once more. Miss Lovegood had not been seen in the school for months, not since she boarded the Hogwarts Express for the Christmas holidays. _How can she have gotten in?_

And she wasn't the only one. Gazing out over all of the students now standing before her, Minerva could see that their ranks had swelled, much greater than they had been at dinner, just a few short hours ago. There was Seamus Finnegan, looking marginally less bruised and bloody than when she had last laid eyes on him in March. There, Ernie Macmillan, the stout boy he had been just last year scarcely recognizable underneath the solid man he had become. There was Padma Patil, her once flighty eyes now hardened, and locked on Snape in steely determination. They were all back.

Minerva's eyes darted to the Headmaster, but his inscrutable face curiously betrayed not the slightest hint that he had seen them. That this new development had also eluded the Carrows was less surprising. Not for the first time, Minerva seriously considered whether they might not have more than a few drops of troll blood running through their veins. Another quick scan of the Great Hall revealed at once that the re-appearance of dozens of their students had not escaped the notice of her fellow heads of houses. She was gratified to see that they, too, had one hand firmly on their wands.

When the last of the students had taken their places in the Great Hall, Headmaster Snape raised his wand, and with a flick, the doors to the Entrance Hall slammed shut, the booming sound reverberating throughout the sudden silence of the Hall. All of the students and some of the staff flinched. The Headmaster took a few menacing steps towards them.

"If anyone here has any knowledge of Mr. Potter's movements this evening, I invite them to step forward. _Now_." His tone was icy, and the words almost inaudible, except that every person standing before him was craning to hear him, hardly daring to breathe.

Even Minerva, who thought that she was prepared for anything that might happen this evening, was astonished by what happened next.

Harry Potter himself emerged from behind a group of taller Hufflepuff boys, and presented himself to Professor Snape. The silence was shattered in an instant, as every person present gasped loudly and shrank back, giving him and Professor Snape a wide berth in the centre of the Hall. When Harry spoke, it was with a voice of barely-controlled fury.

"It seems, despite your exhaustive defensive strategies, you still have a bit of a security problem, Headmaster," Harry sneered.

As perfectly timed as if it had been rehearsed, the door behind him burst open once more, and Minerva's heart leapt for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening. There, standing in a solid line behind Harry stood Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Remus Lupin, and a dozen others, their faces grim and determined. The Order of the Phoenix had come to Hogwarts.

But Harry was not finished lambasting Severus Snape. "How _dare _you stand where he stood? Tell them how it happened that night. Tell them how you looked him in the eye, a man who _trusted_ you, and _killed_ him. _Tell_ them!"

Snape's response was almost instantaneous, but Minerva's was even quicker. Before he had even raise his wand, before she even had time to think, her cat-like reflexes had sent her darting in front of her pupil and shoving him behind her, beyond Snape's reach. Her wand, outstretched, was perfectly steady in her hand.

Minerva didn't wait for Snape to make the first move. _Incendio_, she thought furiously, all of the Gryffindor fire and Scottish ire that had been building up in her for the last year exploding out of her at once.

But Snape was also a gifted duelist, and he easily conjured a shield that deflected Minerva's spell just in time. Minerva braced herself for the Cruciatus Curse she was sure was coming at any second, but it never did. Instead, Snape merely continued to block the jets of flame that Minerva kept sending his way.

They circled each other in a brief and graceful dance, before Minerva advanced on him further, forcing him to retreat. She got a vindictive thrill when one of his shields also took out both of the Carrows, sending them into unconsciousness.

When their duel had taken him to the edge of the platform where the head table should have been, Snape had nowhere left to go. In a flurry of robes, he catapulted himself up and out of the window, the glass shattering before another spell could reach him.

"Coward!" Minerva screamed after him. "Coward!"

Her voice was hoarse, but hot blood was coursing through her veins.

**Author's Note**: Just one chapter to go now, folks. Thanks for sticking with me. As always, I love reviews!


	4. Lioness Triumphant

It had happened at last.

After a year that seemed like it would never end, Headmaster Snape had been driven from the castle. _Finally_, Minerva thought fervently, her heart swelling. It had been almost too easy.

The Great Hall erupted in thunderous applause, and Minerva allowed a small, grim smile as she eyed the Snape-shaped hole in the window's broken glass. With a quick wave of her wand, the dark torches lining the Hall were set ablaze, chasing away the last shadows of Snape's reign. For the first time in nearly a year, Hogwarts felt warm.

The celebration, however, was painfully short-lived. Minerva turned her gaze on the Boy who Lived, just in time to see him sinking to his knees before her, his head clasped in his hands.

"Potter?" she questioned, kneeling at his side at once.

But then they all felt it. It was hard to tell whether the terrible hissing sound was coming from outside the castle walls, or from within their very heads. Then came the sound of loud, heavy breathing. Dark clouds gathered swiftly on the Enchanted Ceiling. Padma Patil screamed.

Everything was suddenly heavy. Minerva's mind cast around for a spell, any spell that would ease this pressure, but she found that even keeping her eyes open and holding tight to her wand just now required all the energy that she possessed. As she watched Harry struggle to get to his feet, a high cold voice began to speak, and the sound pressed in on them even harder.

"I know that many of you will want to fight," it taunted. "Some of you may even think that to fight is wise. But this is folly. Give me Harry Potter. Do this and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave Hogwarts untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded. You have one hour."

As quickly as it had come on, that heavy feeling inside of them was lifted. Finally able to breathe freely again, nearly everyone scrambled away from where Harry stood among them. Then they all fell still, waiting.

Not for a moment did Minerva relax her grip on her wand, still extended before her. Her eyes darted around the Hall, as if counting the silent seconds. When Pansy Parkinson's shrill voice broke the silence beside her, only Minerva did not flinch. She merely trained her wand on the Slytherin, her face betraying not even the slightest surprise.

"What are you waiting for?" Pansy cried, pointing needlessly at Harry. "Someone grab him!"

This time, Minerva was not the first to step in between Potter and harm. Predictably, that was Ginny Weasley, eyes blazing, wand-arm raised. _I wouldn't be surprised if they're engaged before the summer is over_, Minerva thought absently, as she watched Hermione Granger, and then the whole of Dumbledore's Army come to Potter's defense. _That is, if they both manage to survive this night_.

Minerva nodded approvingly, and turned to address Miss Parkinson, but just then, the sound of footsteps and a voice were heard in the Entrance Hall. A second later, Mr. Filch was making his ungainly way toward them, Mrs. Norris in his arms. Even if she had wanted to, Minerva truly couldn't have stopped herself from rolling her eyes at that moment.

"Students out of bed! Students out of bed! Students in the corridors!" Filch cried.

It took every ounce of willpower Minerva had to restrain herself from simply Stunning the caretaker and being done with it. "They are supposed to be out of bed, you blithering idiot!"

Minerva didn't even hear his muttered apology, because this inane exchange had jolted her back into action. Voldemort had granted them one hour; there was not a moment to be lost.

"As it happens, Mr. Filch, your arrival is most opportune," she said, striding towards him. "If you would, I would like you, please, to lead Miss Parkinson and the rest of Slytherin House from the Hall."

"Exactly where is it I'll be leading them to, Ma'am?" he asked.

"The dungeons would do," she said wryly, to a chorus of cheers from the other houses.

She saw a handful of reproachful faces as the Slytherins were led away, but there was no help for it. Certainly there were Slytherins, many of them, who did not share Voldemort's pureblood philosophy, but how to determine which ones? There simply wasn't time. Even if it were possible, many of them had family and friends who were no doubt amassing on the Hogwarts grounds at this very moment, and the idea of asking them to turn their wands on their loved ones tonight was unthinkable. No, it was best to have them out of the way for the time being.

That settled, Minerva sought out Harry at last. "I presume you have a reason for returning, Potter. What is it you need?" she asked.

"Time, professor," he replied. "As much as you can get me."

She nodded. "Do what you have to do. I'll secure the castle."

He was halfway to the door when she called him back. "Potter?" He turned. "It's good to see you," she said, her mouth quirking up into a smile.

"It's good to see you too, Professor," he returned, before dashing out of the Hall. She watched him go, before squaring her shoulders and turning back to the others. They were all watching her, waiting for instructions. She swiftly began to issue commands.

"The younger students must be evacuated, along with anyone else who cannot or will not fight. Poppy, if you could see to that?"

The healer nodded, and began rounding up her charges.

"Pomona, Horace, Sibyl, Rolanda – you know your strengths. Be creative. We will need every advantage we can get, anything that can be used as a weapon."

They, too, left the Hall, muttering under their breaths about Bludgers and Devil's Snare. The Great Hall was emptying now, with just the Order and Dumbledore's Army gazing at her expectantly. "Kingsley, Remus, I assume that you have a plan?"

The Auror nodded, .

"Very well. Filius and I will do what we can for the castle's defenses, and we'll be with you shortly."

The Order and the remaining professors turned to go, but were halted in their tracks by the voice of one seventh-year Hufflepuff.

"What about the DA, Professor?" asked Ernie Macmillan. "We want to stay and fight."

"Absolutely not," cried Molly Weasley, before anyone else could speak. "They're only children."

"Some of us are of age," shot back Cho Chang.

"Seventeen or not," interjected Colin Creevey, "we're ready. We've been training for this moment for years."

"Those are our friends out there," Lavender Brown added. "We're not just going to stand back and watch them get killed."

Molly opened her mouth to retort, but Minerva held up her hand. She considered the matter, and was reminded of a time, just a few short years ago, when she, too, had come to the aid of a friend.

_She had been on patrol that night, walking the long corridors of the first floor, when the sound of voices and footsteps on flagstones reached her sharp ears._

"_The half-breed will resist arrest, of course. Cornelius has given me full authority in the matter, so use Stunners if you have to," Dolores simpered chillingly._

"_Very good, Headmistress." Then came the sound of a heavy wooden door slamming shut._

"_Hagrid! No!" exclaimed Minerva, transforming into her Animagus form in an instant and racing down two flights of stairs, across the Entrance Hall, and out the door after them, as fast as her legs would carry her._

_Hagrid's cabin door slammed open with a bang, and she could see his silhouette, arms raised for a brawl. Jets of red light leapt towards him from all directions, but they could not subdue him. Hagrid roared angrily, wheeling about with his fists, but the cowards from the Ministry were all firing from a safe distance. Fang howled and tried to bite the wizard nearest to him, but was hit by a Stunner himself, falling to the ground in a heap. Hagrid roared again, lifting one of his attackers in the air and hurling him to the edge of the garden._

_Minerva continued to sprint across the grass as she watched. She transformed back as she ran, brandishing her wand before her._

"_How dare you! How _dare_ you!" she howled, all thoughts of dignity cast aside. "Leave him alone! _Alone_, I say!"_

_But the Ministry officials paid her no heed._

"_On what grounds are you attacking him?" she demanded, her hair coming loose from its tight bun. "He has done nothing, nothing to warrant such—"_

_She had just enough time to see several bolts of red light coming straight towards her out of the darkness, before everything had gone black._

She would be told later that she had taken four Stunners straight to the chest, and that she was extremely lucky to be alive, but it hadn't mattered. She hadn't been able to prevent Umbridge's attack on Hagrid, but she had, at least, given him the chance to escape and go into hiding. Knowing how much he had suffered during his short stay in Azkaban several years earlier, she would never have forgiven herself if he had again been taken into custody, not if there was anything she could do to prevent it.

"The bridge must come down," Minerva said at last. She turned to Neville Longbottom. "Take a few of your army and see to it. Send the others to assist wherever they are strongest." She felt a very smug sense of satisfaction to see Longbottom's jaw drop at her words.

"Minerva, you can't be serious!" exclaimed Molly Weasley incredulously.

"I am," she replied firmly. "Look at them, Molly. These are no children. One way or the other, this war ends tonight. Filius, let's go."

Minerva swept from the Hall, never looking back. She could hear Filius's footsteps behind her, running to keep up with her long strides. A moment later, Neville Longbottom was jogging at her side, his face still shocked.

"Let me get this straight, Professor. Are you actually giving us permission to do this?" he asked. He had never put so many words together in her presence before, and her heart swelled once again with pride. She prayed that, before it was too late, Augusta would realize what a wonderful grandson she had.

"That is correct, Longbottom," Minerva replied, never taking her eyes off of the door to the Entrance Hall, which stood wide open before them. She was as focused as she had ever been in her life, but something about this night was making her feel rather giddy. _Was this how Albus felt_, she wondered, _when he was at his most powerful_? She could have sworn he was at her side tonight, guiding her actions and her words.

"To blow it up?" he persisted. "Boom?"

"BOOM!" she replied, so overflowing with energy that it was fairly pouring out of her. She was half-tempted to skip the rest of the way to the courtyard.

There was a pause, as Longbottom took in this rather drastic change in his normally staid professor. "Wicked. But … how on earth are we going to do that?"

"Why don't you confer with Mr. Finnegan," she said. "As I recall, he has a particular proclivity for pyrotechnics". That was pure McGonagall – she had always been at her sharpest and wittiest when the adrenaline was coursing through her veins.

"I can bring it down," came Seamus's voice from behind them.

"That's the spirit. Now, away you go," she said, shooing them. She was on the point of raising her wand again when Filius spoke from beside her.

"You do realize, of course," he said soberly, "that you can't keep out You-Know-Who inefinitely?"

"That doesn't mean we can't delay him," she said. "And his name is Voldemort, Filius. You might as well use it. He's going to try to kill you either way."

The tiny Charms professor nodded resolutely, and set off down the stone steps.

As Minerva turned to face the open doorway, the feeling that Albus was with her was almost palpable. For one last time tonight, she allowed her mind to cast back to a time when the decision to act had been taken out of her hands.

_It had been a night full of surprises, in which Minerva had learned for the first time of Dumbledore's Army. She had watched with increasing astonishment and fury as Umbridge and Fudge had attempted to take first Potter and then Albus into custody over the matter. She saw Albus's smile growing wider, the twinkling in his eye growing brighter, and she knew long before any of the others what he was planning. Still, she had been unable to resist when the discussion turned to taking Dumbledore by force._

"_He will not be single-handed," she had shouted, plunging her hand inside her robes. But Albus was faster. He was always faster._

"_Oh yes he will, Minerva!" Dumbledore had said sharply. "Hogwarts needs you!"_

"Yes, Albus, it does," she said simply. Power radiated off of her in waves, the energy from decades of pent-up frustration and disappointment being released at last into the night.

"_Piertotum Locomotor_," she cried, waving her wand. Every nerve ending in her body came alive as the words left her mouth. She could _feel_ the clang of metal on stone as the suits of armor leapt down from their perches along the walls. They marched down the stone steps on either side of her, maces raised before them.

"Hogwarts is threatened!" she bellowed. "Man the boundaries, protect us! Do your duty to our school!"

She turned to Molly, who was standing beside her. "I've always wanted to use that spell," she confided. And then she giggled, actually giggled. They had a battle to win.

**Author's Note: The End! Thanks so much for reading!**

**For me, this story began at the very end, because I needed some way to explain to my satisfaction what could possibly make McGonagall say that line in the film. Initially I thought it would be just a one-shot, but the story grew from there. I was never really interested in the battle itself, though, so this is where it ends.**

**I really hope you enjoyed it, and I welcome any comments or constructive criticism you might have! (Any lines you recognize in this chapter from Order of the Phoenix obviously do not belong to me!)**


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